


Bring before me what is mine

by shizu_fanatic



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alpha Brian, Alpha Tim Staffell, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, I will add more tags later, M/M, Omega Freddie, Omega Roger, Slow Burn, Smile Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-22 03:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17052314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shizu_fanatic/pseuds/shizu_fanatic
Summary: Brian May and Tim Staffell welcomed Roger Taylor to their band, a well-hidden omega who came for a chance to practice their own talent in music. All while denying the alpha nature of himself, Brian turned a blind eye to any telltale clues and focused on Smile's awaited future. Little did he know how Roger developed a crush on him and was determined to get his heart.





	1. Chapter 1

In almost every late afternoon since October, the common club room at Imperial College has been occupied by a physic student and a couple of young men he calls his bandmates. Behind the closed door, one can clearly hear the clattering drum and the guitar’s screech, which were never in rhythm with one another. Even the nicest person without a good ear for rock can tell that’s an utter mess. There’s no trace to be found of Smile – the splendid trio who had their unofficial debut at a local pub few month ago – ever since the first drummer left.

“- Now then, just follow my clap!” said Brian impatiently once again as he abandons his guitar in middle of the song, trying to get the one behind the drum set back on the track. Tim’s thumping his bass quietly while watching the other two from the corner of the room, his look unamused. They’re getting nowhere with these repeated attempts to audition new member for the band. Not with so little time prior to their next announced gig. 

“- I think, that’s it for today guys.”, he spoke up as soon as Brian and the struggling drummer finally stop playing, “Go home, Billy. I will contact you later.”  
Both of them look plainly relieved, or the newcomer at least. The dude really wasn’t just being humble, claiming he only plays the drum as a hobby. It took the devastated guitarist everything, indeed, to not just shout his anger in their faces. The air is filled with strained silence as they’re packing the instrument, until there’re but Brian and Tim left in the club. 

“- You know we can’t keep doing this.” Tim said at last, doesn’t even have to look to know how his bandmate just threw him a sharp side glance.

“- What else we’re gonna do then, Tim? Are you up to help?” Brian snapped, still frustrated since earlier. The only member other than himself who could actually play looked rather comfortable today, doing nothing but curling up with his lovely bass.

“- This is nothing personal, Brian. We just can’t keep handing out flyers and expect some genius drummers to show up.” 

The guitarist finally looks up at his bandmate in the eyes, his jaws clenched in an unwilling defeat. The next moment he draws his gaze back to his Red Special, pouting slightly before closing the case shut. He’s never hated agreeing with Tim Staffell as he does now, but his logical mind knows his friend’s simply stating the truth. One after another have come to their audition. Billy can’t count the beats and Larry was something worse.

Running a hand through his hair, Brian’s head sways with so many “if only”. If only they had more budget. If only all of them were equally passionate about music to ever leave the band. If only they were good enough to get noticed…

There’re handful of young music bands like Smile in London. They rose and fell, remembered by plenty or not. Despite the insight of what Smile could be, Brian can’t help but have doubts that their glory days might simply remain in his wild dream. After all this time they’ve been through. Long before they got to taste the sweetness of their efforts.

“- Either we hire a professional or cancel the next gig. Think about it.” 

Tim’s voice cut his train of thoughts. And when he looks up, the bassist has already gone out of sight.

***  
Brian shuddered at a gust of wind, noting how fast it turns cold as winter arrives. Hands in pocket and collar up, the lanky figure unwittingly sinks down in his long coat that is one size bigger than himself. He takes long steps across the empty campus, heading to the streets, needless to see where he goes. The young guitarist still has his mind drifting to the closed club room, to all those practice sessions when they were good, to Smile’s very first gig in a night pub downtown. White breathe spreads in the air with his memories, still fresh as it’s just yesterday. 

Back then Brian knew, for the first time so clearly, what he’s doing in life. To be identified as a musician, a guitarist feels so right for him. Even better than a good student, a honourable physicist-to-be, or a prosperous alpha… The young man frowns at his own thoughts. He’s never wanted to be involved in that conventional system. Yet the undying wishes from the older generation of his family seems to have got to the back of his mind nevertheless. 

The next moment he feels a thud on his chest. Being pushed back so suddenly, Brian almost lost his balance, if he hadn’t got himself on his heels in the last seconds. An apology naturally escapes his mouth the same time he heard a vulgar swearing from below. Whomever he just literally bumped into was not as lucky as him, having landed squarely on their butt.

“Hey, you’re alright?” Brian asked, leaned down and offers a hand. The stranger jerks back slightly by surprise before looking up in alert. With an apologetic smile frozen on his lips, Brian was lost at the sight. Those eyes of perfect blue were something London’s sky can only dream of. It’s not until the other withdraws their gaze first that Brian blinks, his hand was snapped away with little force as they struggle to stand up by their own. For a drop of a hat they seem, to his subconsciousness, to be just as captivated as he is with them. 

“- I-I’m fine. Look where you’re going.”, a voice quietly said.

There he saw a young man around his age, shorter but well-built. His blond hair is over-ears long, making a lovely frame for his face. Faking a cough, Brian averts his eyes. Hopefully, the baffled guy didn’t notice him staring and finds that weird. 

“You’re not a student here, are you? I mean, I don’t think I see you around.” the taller man slurs, little to get an answer, but to hide his awkwardness. 

“Ah, no, I’m from the eh, medical school. I only drop by for this.”, the blonde answers, holding up a rather crumpled flyer, “But you’re, right? Mind telling me how to get to the eh, common club room?” 

Brian’s eyes widened at that piece of paper. He doesn’t need to read into it to know what’s written there. Brian May and Tim Staffell of Smile in search for skilled drummers. That advert should be hanged on the college’s noticeboard and does its job. Brian closes in quickly feeling mildly annoyed, trying to snatch the advert back from the other’s hand. 

“Hey, how did you get that? You can’t just take it down!” 

“Woah, man, I need it! My friend took it for me so... Y-You can just fuck off if you’re not gonna help!” the smaller man raised his voice at the sudden aggression, taking few steps back, holding the flyer more tightly.

“- Look, it’s fine that you come for the audition, but we still need that for the others to know.”, he explains, having taken a deep breath. Even though still noticeably irritated, the defensive reaction did cool Brian’s head down.

The blonde raises a brow, trying to make sense of the other’s words, but gives up soon enough and tries to make his way around him. 

“Don’t you ignore me. I’m that Brian May.” 

“- Brian who?” the blonde squints, looking back at him from head to toes.

“- Brian May! Of Smile! Gosh, have you even read the advert?” 

“- Ah, Brian May!”, the smaller guy let out a dry laugh after a pause, let their anxiety disappear all at once. Brian stands dumbfounded as he sees the other unhurriedly walks past him, knocking on his shoulder with his own in a friendly manner. The contact feels somewhat different to what he expected. 

“Yeah, I’m here for the audition. You’ve already got a drum kit in the club room, right?” the blonde asked cheerfully, apparently expected the other guy to follow and show him the way. The ringing voice brings Brian back to the ground as he turns back, calling out to the other.

“- Geez, haven’t I told you I got the flyer from my friend?” the blonde shouts back, “And I’d say you won’t need it anymore, now that I came.” 

“- No, I didn’t mean that.” the taller man rolls his eyes, already catches up with the smaller one ahead, “- You haven’t told me your name.” 

Blue eyes quickly glance his way and a slight smile curls up on those lips. Brian can nearly feel a little something oddly swaying in his chest.  
“- It’s Roger Taylor.”, he replied, “But you can call me Rog.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lime light will be on Roger this time as the first tension emerges...

Roger takes a deep breath with his eyes closed, feeling the drumsticks on his fingers as if they’re a part of his own. Inwardly counts to three, he picks up a moderate tempo on the snare drum and a steady rhythm with his right foot. As his eyes once again flutter open, the wild movements he’s ever proud of have already taken over his mind, let his muscles flex so swiftly and defiant for each sounds and beats. 

He plays with great focus, just him and the set, but not for so long till he hears Tim Staffell make his own move. The trial has begun in which the new drummer is more than willing to prove his worth. With a knowing smirk, he subtly tunes his drumming accordingly to the quiet yet no less powerful bass. No matter how difficult the bassist makes it for him, erratically changing the chord every now and then, he will follow with grace. Roger Meddows Taylor is not just an above-average guy with two drumsticks; he got his ears for any kind of songs that were playing, though he might like them or not.

But oh, he does know when they sound creeping. From behind the drum kit, as his body starts heating up again, he can clearly recall that rocking riff he heard just few days ago. The sound that man created with his Red Special was mesmerizing. It brought something new out of his own drumming, something Roger doesn’t know he has. Unwittingly biting down on his lower lip, the blonde lets his mind drift back to the mini session he had with Brian. The more he tries to chase after those sounds from his memory, the more vividly he feels the desire to hear them played again. 

Eventually, Tim stops playing and watches the drummer passionately finish the improvised piece. Funny how the guy was able to take the lead halfway and make him catch up instead. But it’s not only for his drum skills that Tim finds him incredible. Roger has the so-called stage appeal; the way he moves, the expression he shows, the alluring aura that only grows stronger around him. 

It’s the scent in the air. 

The bassist blinks in realization and inhales deeply, his pupils dilated. It’s not just the smell of sweat, but the distinctive pheromones that naturally comes from every omegas. How come he didn’t notice until now? Whatever that young omega has been using to hide his scent must wear off only by a silly mistake.

Perhaps his old friend Brian hasn’t know yet, how they’ve found a gem in every sense. 

***

“- So he really wasn’t just desperate when he said he found someone.” Tim applauds once the blond released his last shot, “- You’re brilliant.”

Roger looks up from behind the kit and utters a quiet thank you, still breathing heavily. Having expected Brian to join them halfway through this second audition, he casts his eyes across the club room. Yet it’s still just Tim and himself that he found. Worries emerges in those blue eyes for a short moment, but soon enough his sweaty face lit up again with the usual, charming smile. 

“- Is Brian still coming?” 

“- Of course, he should be done with that exam by now.” Tim shrugs, checking the clock on the wall, “ Must be running to see his wonder boy.”

“- What? He really called me that?”, Roger can’t help but snort. The image of the guitarist getting over-excited feels amusing to both of them for no obvious reason. It doesn’t take long for one to tell Brian who is not someone who can be easily impressed. 

“- No, but I haven’t seen him so stirred since long. He just won’t shut up about you at all.”, Tim concludes after a short pause, his expression unreadable, “As if he’s enchanted.”

“- What do you mean?.” the blonde wonders aloud, shifting lightly on his seat.

Tim steps toward the kit, looking down shortly to select his words. More than amazed by the drummer’s talent, he’s concerned about the “gift”. God knows what could turn out of a band, putting two alphas and one omega together on stage, in front of a crowd and all kind of people.

“Say, Roger, you’re that, right?”, he finally asked. In the dense silence that follows, Tim can sense the other’s anxiety raising up. 

The smile on Roger’s face lost its radiance almost instantly. Like a conditional reaction, he raises a hand to wipe his sweat clean, but more likely to cover the nape of his neck. The cheap scent blocker must have been washed off by the heat. While his inner voice is cursing profusely for such carelessness, the young man gives everything to put on a convincing baffled look. 

“- I…have no idea what you’re talking about…” Roger denied weakly as he stutters, knowing only fools would now believe in his words. Still he’s not willing to admit, not even if Tim Staffell has got enough proof to be sure. He knows the bassist only waits for him to confess, to his own convenience. 

Looking down at the two drumsticks within his hand, Roger feels his heart sunken. Here comes that bitterness all again, the rejection he got every time for being born with this sickening nature. The nature of himself that always gets in between whenever he simply wants to do what he loves. Can’t his drumming skills be the only thing they look at? Can’t he just for once step on a bigger stage and perform to the mass of audience that doesn’t solely consists of some dirty drunkards? 

Hasn’t Brian recognized my worth?

That gleam of hope flashes through Roger’s mind amid the tightening tension. His scent was well-versed back in the time, and he feels confident that the guitarist doesn’t suspect. To the occasional strumming sound from Staffell’s bass, that notion can, however, not comfort him long. Does it really matter if Brian hasn’t known, when he can now anytime learn the truth? As sadness dissolves in anger, the drummer shoots up and harshly grabs his belongings, already tries his best not to just knock off the drumkit. 

"- I have nothing against your kind.” 

“- Then what’s your problems?” Roger snapped, only feeling fueled by the unruffled justification. 

“- You know Brian is the one who has the final word. And I only hope that you’re aware of the risk we’ll have to take.” Tim asserted to the other’s back, his eyes shine coldly.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde turns back to face the bassist again, considering the truthfulness of the statement. Tim says nothing more but raises a brow, merely waiting for the other to react. 

“- Tell Brian I feel ill.”, said his last words before leaving. But that’s just enough for Tim to take grasp of the new resolution occurs to Roger’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> Please leave me kudos and comments if you did, they mean a lot to me.  
> Until next time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and sorry for making yall wait.  
> I just wanted to write this fic having the right mood, and to publish the best version of it.  
> Enjoy!

Tracing his eyes after the supervisor, Brian just can’t wait to turn his papers in and take his leave. As the tiresome week slowly creeps over, soon he’ll be done with the mid-term season and ahead lies the long-awaited Friday night. His mind has left the college hall and traveled ahead of him since long, to the busy streets of London he’s always known by heart. However, it’s not a regular evening at home he’s looking forwards to, but a promised meeting with Smile’s runaway drummer-to-be.

Scratching his head every five minutes, the physic student struggles with questions that lie outside of his exam. Only Tim Staffell and Roger Taylor can possibly tell what actually happened at the practice session Brian’s failed to attend on time. The quarrel after settled with disbelief and frustration, leaving the young guitarist with little idea of how they should carry on. As Smile’s newly found hope has just burst like a bubble, the scheduled upcoming gig once again turns into an unwanted nightmare. 

“- You might try to find him in some local pubs. I remember he mentioning his nightlife’s rather active.”, suggested his, up till now, only bandmate, and Brian could totally sneer at that.

Yet what’s other choice he has but to hold on that ludicrous piece of advice and look for Roger in “where he’s bound to be”? With his hope hanging low, Brian’s been wandering around those “infamous” districts for nearly a week, until he actually spotted Roger’s blonde head once again. At the rowdy entrance of a nightclub downtown he’s there in some kind of flashy, party-goer clothing, looking rather disheveled among his folks. It’s not until Brian tap him on the shoulder that he noticed, although didn’t seem irritated by Brian’s sudden approach. He could swear having seen that smirk. 

“- Come back here next Friday if you will. I don’t have time to talk tonight.” That and a flyer of his “ace demonstration” at the place were the only things Roger gave him. That blonde head had then disappeared behind the “highly exclusive” club’s door, while Brian himself was holding back by the security guard as a complete stranger. By all means, he did try to sneak in several times the next day, only to get thrown out by the very same guard with a reminder to come back on Friday. No wonder who has given this special instruction just for him. 

The exams have indeed done Brian a favor by distracting him from the whole circumstance. Still the nearer he is to end the last one, the more intensely that last encounter with Roger burdens his mind. What did that chad mean? It’s not like a drummer can hold a performance by his own? Impossible. Unless he’s already got a band to help him show off his quirk to a member of the band he’s just ditched. The nib of his pen breaks against the desk surface as Brian unwittingly presses it down. 

Sinking deep in thoughts, the frustrated Brian May shoots straight up from his seat when his name’s called. Wasting no second to feel embarrassed, he hurries across the room, plainly ignores several curious eyes following his steps. A subtle nod to the supervisor and he’s free to go; the broken pen’s tugged in the pocket of his shirt. A sullen excitement builds up in his chest at the thought of tonight’s show. Strangely enough, he didn’t find his anger pointed at Roger, but the drummer’s current bandmates he’s never known. 

May Roger put up his ace demonstration with the band, Brian will win him over by this way or another. The young guitarist just knew, when that drum sound tuned with his riff, that they could be “more” than themselves when they’re together. The world will take their side and lead Smile to success once Roger does. All his fears for an uncertain future disappeared without a trace, while all he felt was pure passion for the playing music.  
Flung the guitar case on his back, the young man makes his ways out of the crowded campus. Chilly wind brushes his curls as the competitive aggression drives his steps.

***

“- Come in mate, have a drink. You’ll see him in no time!” said a ringing voice half an hour ago. And Brian thought Roger will come greet him as he arrives. Anyhow, he can surely enjoy a Guinness somewhere better than this place. 

Taping his long fingers on the bar counter, the young man hastily picks up his beer again and takes another sip. From behind the cup, he dashes his eyes from the crowded dance floor to the empty mini stage. Still, the only person he knows among the folks is nowhere to be seen. The familiar and comforting bitterness of the liquid running down his throat, yet it can only manage to help him cool down a bit in this cramped nightclub. 

Under the flashing light of cyan and magenta, he saw drunkards and stoners, flinging onto each other, either to make out or to pick a fight. They’re all commonly finding a relief for the raging adrenaline rush. The people fill the limited space with their scents, overwhelming any newcomer with the suffocating sweetness. And oh, he could have sworn, disco is the only thing they’ve ever played in this club. The deafening music steadily drives him out of his mind. 

But still he’s here, waiting for the promised show. The one which hopefully will be the last of Roger’s current band. Needless for Tim’s tongue-in-cheek advice, Brian intentionally brought the Red Special with him in case of a competition, being Smile’s founder member and lead guitarist. The prize’s nothing else but to win a talent to his side – fair enough a chance for the honor student to break his rules. But before all that, let the drummer show himself on stage if he will, and he’d gladly watch him once from the audience’s perspective. 

“- Hey darling, you’re here alone? Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump.” 

Almost choked on his beer, Brian must turn away from the source of that voice, trying to regain his composure. This is the third time he got hit on in the club this fine evening, and still he can’t keep his cool around it. The stranger chuckles softly. They don’t seem to mind the clumsiness, if it’s not quite the opposite.

To Brian surprise, it’s a young man who settles by his side. His dark and slightly curly hair brushes over his shoulder, and the exotic features of his face give an unique, unforgettable image. Not to mention those black painted nails; one would say his glam look does make him even more outstanding from the party-goer folks. 

“- Ah, no, I’m already with someone.” he answers quickly, putting on a polite smile. That’s the bartender’s tips to deal with people picking up on him. It works quite well so far, as they all kindly left him alone and instead went to find another target. 

“- Oh, I see, with whom are you with? I haven’t seen you around.”, the lanky lad asked with little concern in his voice, unaware of Brian’s well-versed inner panic. Turning his gaze back to his cup, Brian buys a little time to think of a plausible answer. He’s not prepared for this and perhaps never will. 

“- I’m with Roger Taylor…I come for his show.”, replied Brian who instantly regretted it, knowing the queer fellow will interpret those words wrongly in spite of what it added later. The shorter man brings up his own bottle while looking at him from head to toes, showing even greater interest.

“- You’re with that Roger Taylor? You don’t look like Roger’s usual laid.” he coos with a cheeky smirk. Brian looks back, completely frozen on sight. He’s already screaming to the void, when the stranger bursts out laughing, pulling it all off as a joke. 

“- Sorry, dear, I haven’t even introduced myself! It’s Freddie who got on your nerves.” 

“- Brian, Brian May.” he takes the offering hand and shakes it, feeling a strange relief after hearing the other’s cheerful laugh. 

“- Oh you don’t have to tell me that. We have a common friend who told the tale.” Freddie smiles suggestively, shoots a quick glance over Brian’s shoulder as he talks. 

“- Speak of the devil…The show has begun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Freddie makes his first appearance! I hope I got his vibe right.  
> Both he and Tim shall serve as an important element in this romance.  
> Nothing much happened between Brian and Roger in this chapter, but please patient for the first friction to strike the very next chapter.  
> Until then!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thank you for reading!  
> This is my second work on AO3, which I've planned to work on for quite a long time. As you might see, English is not my native language so there could be mistakes here and there, but I hope they won't bother you too much.  
> The work is still in progress and I'll most certainly slow to update, but surely, I will always try my best.  
> If you enjoy reading it, don't hesitate to leave kudos and comments, they'll motivate me to continue better than anything.


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